Through the Eyes of Charlie Bates
by Accomplice in Mischief
Summary: There are so many Artful Dodger stories, but what about the carefree Charlie Bates?
1. Chapter 1

It's a hard life for me, having to be so funny all the time.

Especially those times when I am being completely serious, and nobody believes me. Just the other day, when Dick, Roger, Dodger and I were playing cards I said something everyone thought was hilarious when I hadn't tried to be funny at all. I am very disappointed to say though, that they laughed more then than they do when I tell an actual joke.

Ok, so here's what happened. Dodger was winning – as usual – and most of us had hardly anything left to bet with, so then I said, "I'm sick of him winning, lets cut off his arms"

They though it was hilarious.

"No," I said, "I was being serious" That made them laugh even harder. Perhaps it was because they thought I was joking again, or maybe it was because they imagined me being serious, who knows?

Anyway, Dodger and I are out on the job with Dick. You see, Dicks been begging us for ages to go out on the job with us, so we finally let him. Dodger thinks that Dicks trying to steal his spot though.

I asked what spot, I could see none on him, so, I reasoned, it must have already been stolen.

Dodger hit me.

I stood on his coat tails and he feel over.

Dick came back over to us after successfully pick pocketing some gentleman and showed us the pocket book he had found.

I heard Dodger grumble under his breath as he brushed dirt off his coat.

"So," said Dick, looking at Dodger, "Nancy, eh?"

Dodger hardly paused and had about him the airs of… what's the word? The one that mean not caring? Yeah, moving on…

"Why'd yer bring 'er up Dick?" I asked grabbing an apple from a nearby stall.

"Oh… I just saw the way Dodger was lookin at 'er last night. All dreamy eyed an – "

"Yer off yer rocker," cut in Dodger, "She's wif Sikes."

"Yeah, yeah." said Dick with a knowing smile. I really felt like hitting him then. How dare he make fun of my friend like that? But if I did hit him, then he would know he was on the mark. So we just kept walking, Dodger pick pocketing as he went. I didn't get to do much, because I was walking in the middle, and unless we did a whole switcharoo thingamajig I couldn't get near a person. Plus, if Dodger had Dick next to him, god knows what he would do.

"I 'eard the other day" began Dick after a sideways glance at us, "That…"

I stopped listening, Dick seemed to hear a lot of things, and tell a lot of things, and for that reason I didn't believe a thing that came out of his mouth, because who would tell anything to someone like that?

Then I heard my name, and I was suddenly all ears. But it seems he had finished rabbiting on.

"Wha'?" I asked.

"That's what I said, I mean, can you Adam and Eve it?"

I looked over a Dodger to try and get a clue as to what had been said, but Dodger seemed to have had the same idea as me, and looked as if he was still tuned out.

So I nudged him, and as was his reflex, he punched me.

In the face.

Hard.

And I fell flat on my back.

Not my idea of a good time, that's for sure.

But then the most amazing thing happened.

An angel came down from heaven and helped me back up.

I kid you not.

Actually, I kid you some.

It wasn't an angel.

It was just a girl.

But not a street girl, she was the sort that we would normally pick pocket.

Then she was ushered away by her guardian or something and I was back to reality.

"Why din' you pick pocket 'er? It was the perfect chance!" hissed Dodger in my ear.

"I think she stole from me." I said, sighing.

"Wha?" said Dodger, "Oh god, don't go gettin all soppy on me an saying she stole your 'eart coz I wont stan' 'ere and listen."

"No," I said, patting my pockets, "I really think she stole off me."

"Why would a girl like 'erself wan' with wot you carry, eh?" Said Dick.

"I dunno." I said in an awed voice, "but I fink she just did steal me – "

"Lets go" said Dodger, turning on his heel.

"Wipe!" I yelled after them, "I was going to say wipe!"

"Yer, wot eva, lets git back to Fagins anywho." Dodger said, giving me his knowing look.

Well, I'm screwed.

"But, you know what Charley" Dodger said to me as we climbed the apples and pears, "At least I know yer aint a canary now" and he roared with laughter.

For all you people who don't speak Cockney, you probably wont understand some of the things I've said in here without really thinking about it, so here's a quick rundown of some of the words and phrases;

_Rabbiting (rabbit and pork): _Talk

_Adam and Eve: _Believe

_Apples and pears: _Stairs

_Canary: _Fairy (gay)


	2. Chapter 2

So, Dodger knows that girl, well, 'stole my heart'… as well as my wipes.

I didn't have to tell him though, he just knew in the way friends know, like in the way I knew about him fancying Nancy.

Sitting down to breakfast Dick was talking rubbish again, and I wanted him, to put it nicely, close his mouth. Forever.

"Dick, the things you know brighten all of us, really, they do, so please, do go on." I said it with as much sarcasm as could be possibly be fitted into a sentence, and yet he beamed with pleasure after I said it.

Then Fagin said something terrible, "Dodger my dear, can you please stay back for awhile after the other boys have gone?"

That meant I would have to spend the day with Dick. Alone.

That's enough to make anyone want to jump off London Bridge. Actually, I could make him walk past that… and I… no, _he_ could accidentally fall off.

I told my plan to Dodger. He grinned and told me it's the best idea I've ever had.

Sadly I'm reconsidering.

Dare not say that to Dodger though.

I'll just pretend I forgot.

"Off you go to work now my dears" said Fagin, so I had no choice but to leave.

We walked along the streets with an unusually long silence, and I was surprised to find myself to be the one breaking it.

"I don't understand why Dick is short for Richard."

"Well, its because…" that had set him off talking again. I left him to it, and thought about that pick pocketing rich girl until I realized Dick had stopped talking.

"I _still_ don't get why Dick is short for Richard."

"Were you even listening to me? _Are_ you even listening to me?"

"Nope" I said, which is a total contradiction, but he didn't even seem to notice (see that long word? I only learnt that a few days ago).

Dick walked off in a huff.

Relief, finally.

Then he walked back.

And started bad mouthing Dodger, calling him things I had never even heard of, but from his tone I knew they weren't compliments (see, another long word I just learnt. I'm becoming quite the learned fellow wouldn't you say?) Stupid saying stuff like that to me, because I'm his best china plate aren't I?

So this time _I_ walked away from _him_.

I mean, how dare he say that stuff about Dodger, the little…Dick.

It was actually pretty good walking around by myself. Normally I don't get the chance. But I noticed the beauty of the place I live in – sun fighting through the smog, birds choking, the rats crawling through the alleys, the drunks sleeping in doorways, woman screaming from open windows, filthy kids running past… yep, this is the good life. No doubt about it.

I walked past a gentleman who seemed to be just begging to have his pockets picked. So what else could I do?

.o:O:o.

When I got home I had two surprises. I usually love surprises. But not these ones.

First of all, Dick had been caught by the traps.

Second, and most tragic, Dodger had bought someone home.

His name was Oliver Twist.

What a name.

I mean, 'Twist'. You know twist is just another word for hanging right?

Those two things may have been why I was a bit on edge that night.

But luckily I am a master of composure.

Sometimes.

Maybe.

At least not tonight.

But I could be with practice.

Anyway, here is what happened when we sat down to eat.

So there I was sitting between Roger and Dodger (as usual) with Tommy across from me. There were of course others, but they aren't relevant (there I go again with my new words! I swear I could become a scholar at the rate I'm going!). Where was I? Oh yes, I was sitting there, eating bread and sausages that were Fagin's specialty at time, and Tommy gave me this strange look. I don't know why I did it, I couldn't help it. I threw a chair at him.

"Whatd yer do that fer!" Tommy yelled at me.

"Yer looked at me funny… I freaked out…" There was silence for a few seconds, then Dodger – silent, serious Dodger – burst out laughing.

And of course I couldn't help but join in. As usual, I didn't know why I was laughing.

Actually, I laughed so hard that I all but fell off my chair.

Dodger gave me a funny look.

I almost threw a chair at him.

Luckily enough, I was practicing hard at my composure skills.

Yep, give me a chair and shoot me a funny look and I become a lethal weapon.

Just so long as it isn't Sykes.

* * *

><p>More Cockney Slang (although most the time it takes longer to say the Cockney version, but anyway). I didn't use very much this time, but here they are;<p>

_China Plate_: Mate (FYI, one of my friends and I actually use this sometimes ;P)

_Twist: _Hang

And dissapearingact, note the chair incident! ;P


	3. Chapter 3

That morning we got up, ate breakfast and were having an altogether great morning.

Roger even started singing 'Old MacDonald' except that he… changed it a little.

"Lorn Macdonald had a farm,

E I E I O

And on that farm he had a fox

He was dressed in clothes

With an attack here, and a kheeiihhh(a bit like a noise made by a retarded cat) there

here an Attack, there aN kheeiihhh

Everywhere an attack, kheeiihhh

Oh, Lorn Macdonald had a farm

E I E I O"

Don't know who taught him that version. Everyone stared at him strangely, but then Fagin tried consoling him with a "We all have our 'Charlie Bates' moments, no need to worry."

Roger seemed comforted while I was left fuming. Although I have to admit it took me five or ten minutes to get what they were talking about. And by the time I let out a "OI!" The conversation had moved along.

When I did let out an "OI!" though, I got tutted by Fagin.

"Cant you see the boy is trying to sleep?" He said, pointing in Olivers direction.

"Yer Charlie, aint you got no manners?" commented Dodger.

"A brick through the window wouldn't wake that kid up" I mumbled. And so the morning wore on and I felt a strange emotion. Jealousy.

Yes, dare I say it, the carefree, easy going, completely amazing, brilliant, handsome, talented me (I could have gone on, but I decided against it) was jealous.

Not something I am proud of, I assure you.

I am going to have to be extra witty and make sure to stay in Dodgers good books now.

After we left for work, Dodger and I were cruising along in style, Dodger completely showing his new puffy white shirt (or as close to white as you can get when you live with Fagin) I asked a very good question. One of the smartest I have ever thought of asking, I believe. Shame Dodger didn't see it that way. Actually I think he may believe me mad. Sometimes I even believe myself to be mad. But that isn't what I am talking about right now.

"Dodger, do yer think rats go te dances?"

He gave me a funny look (no chairs nearby) and asked, "why?"

I replied, "Coz I fink I jus' saw one sprucing 'imsel' up in a piece o' broken mirror. 'e was even wearin' a bow tie! 'ow ken that be Dodge?"

Dodger looked thoughtful for a moment before turning to me, "I have looked at your question from all angles, added your facts, subtracted your craziness, and have come up with only one possible answer."

"An' wots that?"

"Yer talkin' garbage, tha's wot."

Yay to friendship.

.o:O:o.

"Wots troublin' you Dodger?" We were walking back towards Fagins for lunch – something we don't do too often, but Dodger wanted to check on the Twist kid (Seethe) – and Dodger was looking… I don't know how to put it… not Dodger-like.

"Sikes." He said simply. "'es been 'orid to Nance again."

"That guys a jerk with a capital 'G'" I said.

"I just aint fair. Why aint Nance seein' that I could treat 'er right?"

"Yer know wha? Yer should be like me. Aiming fer the simple pleasures in life, the simple dreams tha' don't involve women. Women are too complicated anyway."

"Oh yeah?" grinned Dodger, "So wots yer 'simple dream' then?"

"To find a red squirrel, call him Lorn and teach him to tap dance."

"What'd yer wanna name 'im Lorn fer?"

"It's a good name!" I defended.

"Well, no offence Charlie, but as good as it sounds, I'm me, and I have no intention of going out of my way to be like you."

He had said no offence, but I was still a little hurt.

Perhaps that's why I went to Nance for advice… but that's later. First things first.

Lunch with Oliver.

It was… interesting.

"Been working my dears?" asked Fagin when we got back, as he almost always did.

"'ard" answed Dodger.

"As nails" I added pulling some bread off a loaf from Dodgers hat.

"I hope you don't have nits I said", inspecting it thoroughly. Dodger paused in buttering his bread and gave me his withering look, then returned to the before mentioned business.

"What have you got there Dodger?"

"Some pocket books."

"Lined?"

"Fairly well"

"Not as well as they could be, Dodger my dear." Fagin said, winking so much I thought he was having a stroke.

"And you, Charlie?"

"Wipes" I said through a mouthful of bread, and pulled them out of my pocket with a flourish.

Fagin inspected them for a moment before saying the marks had to be picked out with a needle. He was doing that winking-stroke thing again. And I finally caught on.

And almost suffocated on a piece of bread.

Noticed nobody tried to save me.

"Would you like to learn to make pocket books and wipes as well as the Dodger and Charlie my dear?"

"Oh yes, if you please sir."

I believe I nearly died many times that lunch, from inhalation of bread. That can't be good for me, "Oh, he is so green!"

Tried to tie the original story in here, hopefully I didn't repeat myself too much here.

Cockney Slang (and thief words or whatever you want to call it);

_Wipes: _handkerchiefs

_Pocketbooks: _Wallets

_Green: _Innocent (best describing word I could think of)

Think that's about it.

Note to DissapearingAct… _**LORN MACDONALD**_! that is all ;)


	4. Chapter 4

This whole Oliver thing is really starting to annoy me. Must Dodger be always talking to him? I'm supposed to be his best china plate!

Life isn't fair!

Remember last time I said I went to Nance for advice? Well this I guess is the part where I tell of what happened.

After everyone was in their beds asleep, I sat in front of the fire, using the fire poker to play with the coals.

Nancy was behind me, draped over a chair. I thought she was asleep, like everyone else, but then she said, "Yer avnt bin yersel' lately Charlie, wots on yer mind."

"Nuffin" I said automatically.

"Well, oright then." she said, and even I could hear the doubt in her voice, "if yer ever need someone to talk to though, Ill lent yer an ear."

I continued to stir the coals for awhile, then I said, "How come you an Bets are sich good frien's?"

"Wot?" she asked drowsily.

"Ow der you manage to niver git sick o' one anovver." I said, rephrasing the question to the best of my abilities.

"Well," Nance began, swirling her drink in her cup and looking into the distance as she normally did after consuming too much alcohol, "We always tell each ovva tha we are pretty."

"That yer pretty?"

"You know, that we look nice." I was about to ask her another question, but then she feel asleep, and began snoring rather loudly, so I retreated to my bunk.

The next morning after we all had breakfast and we were getting ourselves ready to go out to work, Dodger was setting his hat on his head in front of the mirror, and checking it from all angles.

"Wot yer doin Dodge?"

"Makin sure I ave me 'at on right."

"If it was on right it probably wouldn't fall off yer ead" I commented as it landed the ground.

Dodger gave me a withering look before picking it up and placing it back on his head.

"I meant, I am tryin te find which way it looks best," Dodger told me, readjusting it on his head.

I was silent for a moment, watching him as he looking into the stained and cracked mirror. "Dodger," I said finally, "Yer lookin very andsome."

Dodger froze, his hands still on his hat. Then he turned around slowly and gave me this strange look. "Charlie… are yer gay?"

I was slightly taken aback at his question. "Wha?"

"Is 'at why yer bin anging roun me so much, tryin to impress me?"

"No…" I sat awkwardly on the edge of the table and thought of what to say next, then I remembered something that had happened four or so days ago, "Rember, yer said something bout me not bein a canary coz o' tha' gurl that stole my… wipes."

"Right…" Dodger said, turning back to the mirror. "Hows tha goin anywho? Seen 'er lately?"

"Nah, she aint been around the streets we bin workin on."

"Shame" said Dodger, throwing on his oversized coat. "Yer ready?"

"Yeah" I jumped off the table and followed him out the door.

I also made a mental note that I should never, _never_ tell Dodger he was handsome.

Dodger and I sat down for lunch at a fountain and the biggest coincidence in the history of the universe happened. it is almost as if I am in a book, you know, all those stupid plots that you can see a dozen or so holes in, that you always know the end to.

Although, I don't read books.

Actually, I don't read at all. I cant. But I have listened to Nancy reading some of the stories that come out in the papers.

But that isn't my point. My point was that something amazing happened.

The girl was looking at ribbons in a stall _right across from us!_ I mean, seriously! Its like some predictable story line.

"Hey Dodge, whys womens minds cleaner than mens?"

"I dunno."

"They change em more offen."

For once, I was not the one choking on food from laughter. My chest was swelling with pride though, I had actually gotten Dodger to laugh at one of my jokes!

The only thing was, his face was started to go an alarming shaded of purple, and I had no idea what I should do.

Then some came running over, put their arms around Dodgers chest and squeezed. A piece of soggy looking bread went flying through the air and landed on some rich womans hat. It was quite splendid really, and the effect on the hat made it quite amusing. It looked like bird poo. And she had no idea.

I looked over to Dodger, a big grin on my face, and then I saw something that probably made me turn purple.

With anger.

He was talking to the girl.

_The_ girl.

And she was offering him one of her wipes. Actually, one of _my _wipes.

And he took it!

How dare he!

"Thanks" Dodger said, as though he were some kind of gentleman.

"You feeling ok?"

"Yeah. I'm Jack by the way. Jack Dawkins. This is my friend Charlie."

"Charlie Bates" I said to her, holding out my hand. Two could play at being a gentleman.

She gave me quick glance, a look up and down, ignored my offered hand, then turned back to Dodger.

Never in my entire life have I been as jealous as I have been in the last week! And angry!

So much for best china plates.

"So, whats yer name then?" Dodger asked, giving her back her wipe.

"My name is…"

* * *

><p>Rosie, I meant to write on the last one that I did actually think of Dodger ruined puffy shirt from your story! I was trying to think about something that he would wear that he could show off (that wasn't his top hat of course, because that is irreplaceable) and I immediately thought of your story.<p>

Also, I couldn't think of a name for the girl, and I wanted to post this ASAP because its been ages since I last posted. Any ideas?

Anyway, hoped anyone who read this enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

I cant believe Dodger did that to me.

I mean… I thought he was my best china plate! Seems you cant trust anyone these days.

How could he! It just isn't fair! He is always the one with the girls! I mean, Ive never really had much interest, unless they had a sense of humor, but that isn't the point! The point is, he shouldn't have… choked… and allowed himself to be saved by her…

Okay, I have no idea where that was meant to be going, but I just cant figure my thoughts out at the moment.

"Charlie! Hey, I'm sowwy, but I wasn't – "

"Shut up 'Jack Dawkins'"

"Hey! I tried ter introduce you guys ter each ovver, yer were just standin there like a stunned mullet. No wonder she ignored yer." Dodger retaliated.

I looked at him in shock, "War? Yer tellin me a girl like 'er ent gonna be interested in sumun like me, but she would be in sumun like yersel?"

"No! I'm sayin… well, what yer doin now. Not all there at th' momen'. She is most definitely not my type! Yer know I'm already in wuv anyway," Dodger yelled at me before turning red.

"Not all there! What d'yer mean I aint all there?"

Dodger was looking really angry now, "I mean, yer an idiot if yer think I would steal a girl offa you! Why aint you like all the other guys? Why'd I ave ter befriend the loony?" He asked, throwing his hands in the air.

"I tried bein normal once. It was the most 'orrid few seconds of me life! I'd rather be loony any day, than be yer fwend!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

And we walked off in opposite directions.

Perhaps it was a little childish, but frankly, I don't care. I was in 'wuv' and now my heart is broken.

And to add to my woes, I left before I even got to hear her name.

Maybe Dodger is right, a girl like her wouldn't want to talk to someone like me. I'm weird, and she's a lady.

I mean, she may have actually though Dodger was gentlemen considering his new puffy shirt was still looking slightly clean… ish.

o)O(o

When I finally got back to Fagins it was dark. I had taken the longest most roundabout route imaginable to make sure I avoided running into Dodger.

I ran up the stairs into the main room, walked to the fire, grabbed a sausage, and sat on the chair farthest away from Dodger.

Some of the boys looked at me curiously, but most of them were too caught up in themselves to take any notice. So I guessed Dodger hadn't told anyone anything.

"Hello," said a little voice behind me.

I glanced back and saw Oliver, of course, and said, "you aint gonna be able to go roun' sayin 'hello' to people, yer gonna ave ter learn to say ' 'ello' righ'?"

Oliver nodded and sat down beside me.

"You and Dodger are going to take me out tomorrow. I cant wait to learn how to make handkerchiefs. Do you think they might have me making pocketbooks instead? or do you even think they will let me make anything on the first day?"

I looked at him, not having enough energy to laugh at his way of speaking, and said, "With th' sorta place yer ave in yer mind, yer could be sittin behind the desk serving people wiv the way yer speak."

"So I wont be making wipes? Is it a very good job? Sitting behind the desk?"

"Oh, I'm sure it would be. But don't worry, I will make sure you get to live your dream of stea – making – wipes. Ill make a fine craftsman of yer yet."

Poor little Oliver, he seemed to be fit to burst after my little 'compliment' or whatever.

I have to admit though, I'm kind of warming to the little guy. Although, I don't think he could ever be as good a plate as Dodger.

I looked sadly at the bread and ham sitting on the table in front of me, and remembered back to all those fantastic smoggy days Dodger and I shared together, stealing from the rich, and kicking those poorer than ourselves. Sounds a little like a fairytale I once heard… funny, I can't really recall the name of it.

o)O(o

"I aint forgiven yer yet," I said to Dodger as we walked through the streets with Oliver walking between us.

"I know," he said, not even looking at me.

I remembered back to Dick, and how only a few days ago we had been walking down this exact place with him. I think that's when it finally hit me that what we were doing wasn't the most constant job. Perhaps id I had done something then, it could have stopped something else occurring.

I'm sure you could guess.

Perhaps you cant.

Perhaps you suffer from some strange illness where you are unable to think of anything but the fact and truth that you have been given and cannot believe it to be otherwise… I don't know. I guess its possible.

Dodger nudged me, and tilted his head towards a gentleman reading a book.

I nodded my head, grinning a little. He looked like a good hit.

five seconds is all it took. We would have gotten away with it too, if the stupid book store owner hadn't of seen us.

We went running away, grabbed Oliver's arms to tell him to follow, and he just stood there like a stunned mullet – as I had been a few days ago I guess.

And he ran the opposite way.

We didn't get caught. But why would we have, I mean, we are the greatest thieving team that ever lived, right?

But poor little Oliver. He was caught by the traps. We followed him up until the crowd gathered around him when he was knocked out.

It is true that we didn't help him, but what could we do?

So we went back to Fagins. Neither of us talked, but it was for a different reason this time (You have to be able to guess that, I mean, its so obvious), and I think by the time we got back to Fagins, we were friends again. Not best china plates mind you, but… getting there.

Fagin gave Dodger a hard time, and Dodger actually attacked him with a poker from the fire. It was quite amazing to watch. I dare say that if Sikes hadn't of barged in Dodger most likely would have killed Fagin.

It got me wondering again, what would we do without Fagin?

* * *

><p>Okay, a bad chapter, but I had a better one, then my computer stuffed up and deleted it and some other things -.- and I'm trying to hurry up to another bit. Anyone, thankyou for reading :)<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Ever since Oliver disappeared things have been horrible. Fagin has been nervously chewing his nails, Sikes has been stomping around moodily and Dodger has been silently seething.

On the bright side – because I am Charlie Bates, and I always look on the bright side… most of the time… maybe… not at the moment… - I did find out_ her_ name.

Sylvia.

No last name.

None that she would tell anyway.

I side stepped the broken bottle resting on the pavement and remembered the last few times I had seen her. Once on the ground when she pick-pocketed me, and another by a fountain in my ugly _green_ hat (blue is all the rage at the moment). I cursed under my breath. Why would a lady like her ever like me? Not only am I grotty, but I'm also stupid, and I laugh too much, and… I'm no match for Dodger.

Running up the steps of the den I yelled "plumy and slam" before even being asked. The door opened and I threw myself onto my bunk like a little girl and glared at all the other boys that were sniggering at me.

Actually, the only person who wasn't was Bet … funny that I have never noticed her before. Maybe I could even consider her as being a friend… perhaps even my next china plate? But I am in no way for making such decisions at the moment, I must wait until I am less upset.

A few moment later Dodger walked in. I saw out of the corner of my eye that he took a few steps towards me, before backtracking and returning to the fire.

oOo

The most frightful thing happened to me after dinner!

You see, sometimes Dodger and I go walking after tea since it's supposed to be good for digestion. Well, since Dodger was staying inside entertaining Nancy and Bet, I decided to go walking outside on my lonesome.

I'm not sure if you have ever been on the London streets at night, but me, a 'medium rare criminal' (because I'm not quite a hardened criminal apparently) am telling you; it's not something anyone in their right mind would brave on their own.

But I wasn't in my right mind. Because I was feeling broken hearted.

Well, like I said before, something frightful happened, then I went running back to the den (pushing the boy at the door to the ground in my haste) and into the room where everyone was playing cards.

"I WAS PEACEFULLY WALKING WITH JESUS WHEN SATAN CAME OUT OF NOWHERE AND CHASED BE BACK!" They all looked at me as though I had just dressed up in a Santa suit and began giving out Easter eggs.

Everyone was speechless – Even Sikes… for a moment anyway. "…War? War you mean running in 'ere screamin' like that. Your boys bin imagining things Fagin. 'e aint no good ter yer now."

"What do you mean talking of Jesus and Satan, Charlie?" Fagin said to me, pulling me to the fire and checking my forehead for fever.

"I aint goin crazy" I said. Someone snorted, and I noticed Dodger hit them. "I was walkin' with Jesus, then Satan pounced at me, claws out, teeff bared, growling! It was 'orrid!"

"Your sayin'… you saw Jesus… and Sa'an…?" one of the boys said condescendingly (It's been awhile since I learnt a new word, but it has become quite the habit now).

"Yes" I said, nodding my head vigorously (see? another big one!), "Miss Ashby's dog Jesus, and Mr Arnolds dog Satan! Swear 'e was gonna kill me!"

There was a moment of silence. Something I at first thought meant it was taking them awhile to let the information of my near death experience settle in. But all started laughing at me. Seems I don't even need to use my fingers to count how many people care about my well being.

And why is it that whenever I actually make a joke, no one laughs?

Anyway, I walked out of the room, tried to slam the door (so they knew just how peeved off I was) but ended up just jamming my hand in the door.

By the by, I do not recommend doing it. It hurts. A lot.

I think I may be changing. I used to be so happy. Now I'm always angry. Or jealous. Its horrible. Perhaps it is just a part of growing up?

I hope I won't be like this forever.

But in saying that, I would rather be like this, than to change into an enormous green monster with three eyes that eats cabbages.

Oh, and something else I should mention.

Sikes and Nance are planning to steal Oliver back. They're scared he's going to peach.

Thing is, he's in some fancy house in the middle of the rich part of London. I'm not going to be holding my breath for his return. Then again, if I had to put my money on someone getting the kid back, it would be on Sikes. Still not holding my breath though – it would get rather uncomfortable.

And after all these years, I have become quite fond of breathing. Funny that.

_Peach_: Tell on. Give away information.


	7. Chapter 7

We got Oliver back! Funny isn't it, that only a few days ago I could barely stand the kid, and now I'm excited that he's here again.

Sikes and Nancy bought him in, they couldn't have picked a better time to grab him, as he had a whole five pounds with him! Shame Sikes made Fagin give it to him.

We got the books though. Not that I really care all that much. I can't read anyway.

Anywho, so Oliver is standing before us looking all sad and sorry for himself when all of a sudden he brings up this tiny bit of courage and actually _escapes._ It took us all a moment to get past the shock of the very _idea_ of meek little Oliver actually escaping.

Then Dodger and I bolted out the door, down the steps and into the street. The thing about living in our part of London is that the streets are usually just clear sections of mud. Filled with people. And animals. And rubbish. So chasing after the kid was quite a feat. I crashed into many people as I skidded round corners. At one point I think I may have even crashed into _the _girl. But who cares?

Not me.

Well, maybe a little.

Ok, I really do care, but point is, I kept running. I showed her that two can play at being a snob.

So as we rounded a corner, who should we see catching Oliver? No, it is not the fastest of us boys, or even Sikes. Nor is it Nancy. It is in fact Fagin. _Fagin_. That guy can barely beat a turtle in a race. Even if it has its flippers tied together.

_What is this madness?_

So now we come to the present, with Oliver safely locked away in some dark room while we sit here feasting and patting each other on the back for a job well done. Even though we really had no part in anything. But whatever.

Then I see it. The thing that haunts my nightmares.

Well, it doesn't.

But it will from now on.

Actually, if I had known of its existence before this moment then I may have had nightmares before this moment –

Ok, basically, it is really scary.

"Ahh! Oh Jesus, someone, 'elp, please! I'm gonna die!" Everybody realized how serious the situation was when the heard me use the word 'please'.

Tom glanced at me but didn't seem to see it, "What yer on 'bout Charley – Oh Jesus, look at tha' thing! What – I mean – is that even possible?" Here he raced towards the corner furthest away from me.

Dodger rolled his eyes. "It's jus' a spider – Oh Gawd it's huge!" and he joined Tom. I saw one of the boys faint. Not sure who, I was too focused on the monster sitting on my shirt. After realizing no one was game enough to help me, I did the only thing I could think of.

I stood up and started waving my hands at it (but not touching it mind you), began hopping from foot to foot and screamed like a little girl.

I'm not sure how long this went on for, but all I know is my voice was quite sore by the time I stopped screaming. But I only stopped doing that around ten minutes _after_ the spider had been removed.

Some brave soul who refuses to own up to it, walked up behind me with a decently sized piece of wood and wacked me across the chest. I was sent sprawling, and while the spider was dead, I was still screaming from pain.

I have a niggling feeling it was Roger who did it, so I'm not going to tell him my jokes anymore. He doesn't deserve them.

Later that night when we had all packed in for the night I whispered to Dodger (who is in the bunk next to mine), "You asleep?"

"Nope, I'm attending a ball with the Queen."

"Oh… was that a joke?"

I heard Dodger roll over and I could see the outline of his face in the dark. "Congratulations," he said, "you're an idiot."

I wasn't quite sure how exactly to respond to that, so I ignored it. "Dodger, I'm really worried. Today, I was scared 'alf to death cos o' tha' spider."

"…and…?"

"And… well, what happens if you get scared half to death… twice?"

I heard Dodger chuckle then roll over again. "Goodnight, Charley" was all he said.


End file.
